


stray lower, where the pleasant fountains lie

by alykapedia



Series: an ever-fixed mark [2]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Regency, Intersex Omegas, M/M, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-25
Updated: 2018-11-25
Packaged: 2019-08-29 05:09:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16737700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alykapedia/pseuds/alykapedia
Summary: "I'll be a park, and thou shalt be my deer;Feed where thou wilt, on mountain or in dale:Graze on my lips, and if those hills be dry,Stray lower, where the pleasant fountains lie.”- William Shakespeare, Venus and AdonisYuuri has a not-so-proper request for his lord husband.





	stray lower, where the pleasant fountains lie

**Author's Note:**

  * For [flammablehat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/flammablehat/gifts).



> HAHA damn, I started writing this thing last year?? And then it was just kinda sitting in the backburner for the longest time because I have no freaking idea how to write blowjobs. Sucking dick is hard to write idk. Originally written for Carly, who has an awesome [bj fic](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10858740/chapters/24115206), honestly, it's the BEST and if you haven't read it, then boi, you are missing out. This kinda ended differently than what I had originally planned, but hey, it still works.
> 
> Not my best work, but my god, it's been so long since I wrote anything and posted it on here. So. Yeah. Let's all just ignore any mistakes and stupidity. 
> 
> (Also. Heed the tags. This does feature intersex omegas, so if that's not your cuppa, don't read.)

It isn’t a particularly new desire, if Yuuri was to be completely honest.

He has thought about it far too many times to count, even back when they were still courting and the thoughts arrive much like a thief in the night, robbing Yuuri of every sense of propriety and shame, and has him shamefully slipping a hand between his thighs and burying his cries into his pillow. The desire isn’t new, no, but he has always tried to ignore it, for it is not something that proper omegas do, after all, and for all his faults, Yuuri does try to be a proper omega, if only not to shame Minako and his family.

But now that he is wedded and very much bedded, it is impossible not to revisit those desires, especially when his lord husband is lying but a few inches away, skin still damp and glistening from his ablutions.

“Is something the matter, sweetling?” Viktor asks, looking up from his book with concern writ clearly on his handsome face.

“No, no, everything is fine,” Yuuri babbles, feeling his cheeks burn under Viktor’s scrutiny. He knows that he is more than allowed to look and have his fill of his husband, but Yuuri still feels as if he has been caught doing something highly improper and that Viktor has somehow become privy to the depths of his depravity. “You need not worry, I was–” Faltering, Yuuri bites down on his bottom lip and tears his gaze away, fervently wishing that Viktor would leave the matter be.

His wish, however, is unfulfilled, as Viktor abandons his book—a treatise on bookkeeping practices in the Orient—setting it down on the bedside table, before his hands, calloused and warm, reach for Yuuri, cradling his cheeks gently and bidding him to look at Viktor’s painfully earnest countenance.

“You can ask anything of me, my Yuuri,” Viktor says, tone afflicted with a sincerity that on anyone else would ring false, before continuing, “You need only say the word and I shall see it done.”

Phichit had once mused that Viktor would pluck the moon and the stars from the very heavens if Yuuri so much as mentioned wanting them, and Yuuri remembers how he had scoffed and cast a look of derision at his long-time companion then, but the brightness in Viktor’s eyes eases the uncertainty in Yuuri’s heart, stokes the fire in his belly that burns for Viktor and Viktor alone, and finally loosens his tongue so that the words that have been clamoring for release from his mouth come tumbling out.

“Would you mind if—if I were to try something?”

If his lord husband is in any way surprised at his boldness, he does not show it and Viktor only smiles and shakes his head. “Of course not,” Viktor answers readily, before startling when Yuuri reaches for the quilt covering his lap. “Right now?”

“Yes.” For if Yuuri was to stop now, then he shall never continue. Who knows when he will once again muster the courage to act upon his highly improper desires?

“Then I am at your disposal,” Viktor says with not an ounce of hesitation coloring his tone.

At that pronouncement, Yuuri springs into action and moves so that he’s between Viktor’s spread legs, crawling with a deliberate sway of his hips that has Viktor’s scent growing thicker with desire, makes his lord husband’s formidable length twitch underneath the thin linen of his nightshirt. He wastes no time in pushing the flimsy fabric up and away, revealing Viktor’s cock, already half-hard, and growing harder still at his approach. The sight has his mouth watering, tongue curling, anticipating the weight and taste of it.

“May I?” Yuuri asks, peering up at Viktor through the dark fan of his lashes as he curls one hand loosely around the base where a knot would form.

“Yes, _yes_ ,” Viktor pants, already looking undone at the softest touch, cheeks a blotchy-red that Yuuri wants to kiss, feel their warmth beneath his lips. “Anything, my darling,” he says, a promise that has the folds between Yuuri’s thighs growing hot and slick with need.

Perhaps another time, Yuuri will spend his time just holding and touching Viktor’s cock, trace the veins and marvel at the thin, velvety skin, but for now, Yuuri leans down and presses a sweet, almost chaste kiss to the bulbous head. A strangled gasp sounds from above him, dousing him with liquid heat and draws Yuuri into opening his mouth, has him giving the head of Viktor’s cock tiny, kitten licks before moving further down, mindful of his teeth. He mouths wetly at the gather of skin under the head, tasting salt and spice, Viktor’s musk thickening on his tongue until Yuuri feels that he would drown from it.

Once, long before Yuuri was wed and long before he had even met Viktor, he and Phichit had donned disguises and traveled to the den of iniquity that is Soho, a rebellious act that was the product of a decidedly lackluster season and the beginnings of Yuuri’s bone-deep frustration and weariness for the Marriage Mart. They hadn’t done anything more scandalous than browse through a couple of books with florid descriptions and illustrations that would make any high-society mama faint, but whilst waiting for Phichit to conclude whatever business he had at some dimly-lit trinket shop, Yuuri had borne witness to a whore servicing a sailor with his mouth in a dirty alleyway.

Yuuri had been too shocked, too out of sorts to move, much less avert his gaze, and he had ended up a voyeur to the entire act. He had seen the way the whore’s lips had stretched, obscenely wide around the sailor’s cock, the rouge on his lips smearing with every thrust. He’d watched the entire sordid thing from beginning to end with disbelieving eyes, heart beating wildly inside his chest as the image is seared into his mind’s eye forevermore.

He thinks back on that memory now, and all the other times Viktor has pleasured him with his mouth, and there have been many, as he takes more of Viktor’s cock in, tongue cupping the underside of the head. Viktor is generously endowed, a fact that Yuuri knows intimately after the countless times Viktor has had him, but taking Viktor inside his cunt is very, very different from what he’s doing now.

Different, but no less pleasurable.

The weight of his lord husband’s cock on his tongue satisfies something primal that curls deep within Yuuri’s breast, making the fire coursing through his veins burn brighter. He has not a single clue as to what he’s doing. Yuuri has never done this before, only thought about it in the dark of the night in the safety of his bedroom, but it seems to matter not as Viktor grows to full hardness in his mouth, stretching his lips impossibly wider. It leaves Yuuri no other recourse but to continue in his clumsy efforts, moving moves further into the cradle of Viktor’s hips, suckling noisily until salt blooms fully on his tongue and he’s moaning at the taste, eyelashes trembling against his cheeks.

“ _Yuuri_ ,” Viktor gasps brokenly, a prayer, a benediction accompanied by gentle fingers skimming along his cheek. The delicacy of the touch contrasts sharply with the wildness and desperation that paints Viktor’s countenance when Yuuri peers up at him through the fan of his lashes.

While it’s an admirable show of restraint, it is one that Yuuri could do without, for he wants Viktor to lose control—wants him to be less careful, wants him to use Yuuri as the sailor had used the whore, all those years ago. So Yuuri takes a deep breath and slides further down Viktor’s length, until the bulbous head is dragging harshly against his palate and projecting into the hollow of his throat, and Yuuri is—gagging, choking, tears filling his eyes—

“Oh, my Yuuri. _Lapochka_ , are you all right?” Yuuri hears Viktor’s babble, frantic over the rush of blood in his ears, and he feels his cheeks burn with shame; his bruised ego stinging more than his abused throat. He turns away from his lord husband’s soothing touches and earnest reassurances, but Viktor draws him back and Yuuri is helpless to his pull, and he meets Viktor’s gaze even as failure roils uncomfortably in his belly. “You don’t have to do this, darling,” Viktor begins in an attempt at comfort that does nothing to lessen the sourness of his frustration. “There’s really no need for this.”

There is no need for this, yes, for it is an improper and needless act that a well-bred omega ought not to do, much less think about in such great and vivid detail. There is no need for this, especially when he and his lord husband have taken their pleasures in the comfort of their marriage bed and have not found each other lacking in any way. However, Yuuri has wanted to do this for so long that he’s absolutely wretched with it and he steels himself to say, “But I want to,” breaking the hush that follows after Viktor’s words.

“Yuuri—”

“I want—” Yuuri pauses, taking a deep, calming breath before he starts to recount that fateful trip to Soho and what he’d seen in its dirty streets, each word scalding his tongue. This time, he keeps his eyes focused upon Viktor’s face despite the embarrassment that scorches his own, watching with rapt attention the parade of emotions that flit across his beloved’s face as he concludes his tale. “Before we were wed, I had wondered if—”

Calloused hands cradle his cheeks once more as Viktor prompts, “If,” tone taking on a deeper quality that has the bond mark on Yuuri’s neck itching for another bite.

“If you would be rough with me,” he continues, thinking back on the very first time he’d seen Viktor working at the docks and the wanton thoughts he’d had of Viktor, rugged and filthy after a hard day’s work, pushing him up against a wall and taking him like he’s some ha’penny whore. “And if you were, I wouldn’t have minded at all.” Because even without full knowledge of Viktor’s character, Yuuri trusted him with an intensity that would have been ill-advised if Viktor was anyone else.

A breathless silence greets Yuuri’s confession before it’s quickly chased away by an almost animal growl that shakes him to his very core, and then Viktor is reeling him in for a kiss that steals not only the breath in his lungs, but also the thoughts that fill his mind. Viktor kisses him as if he means to devour Yuuri entire and Yuuri would gladly allow him, would lay himself down at the altar of their bed; an offering to the only god Yuuri would worship and adore forevermore.

“On your knees, sweetling,” Viktor whispers, pulling away after an eternity, leaving Yuuri with bruised lips and an aching cocklet straining against his chemise.

With legs unsteady as a newborn foal’s, Yuuri stumbles to his feet, gasping when a sudden gush of slick drips down the insides of his thighs, eliciting another growl from Viktor. His cunt throbs insistently as he sinks to his knees onto the pillow that Viktor must have laid down, and just like that the air inside the room changes—turns into something stifling and urgent.

However, before he can lean in and coax Viktor back inside his mouth, large hands find their way to his cheeks, and this time, there’s an undercurrent of hunger in the touch that thrills Yuuri, anticipation thrumming in his veins. “Beautiful,” Viktor murmurs, and despite the fact that he has heard it countless times already, for Viktor makes certain to remind him each and every time, the word has him flushing to his ears still.

Yuuri licks his lips, breath catching at the sight of Viktor looking down at him with dark eyes filled with promise. “Teach me how to please you.” He resolutely thinks not on how Viktor must have done this with someone else, for he must have; Yuuri’s husband is the most beautiful man in London, perhaps the entire world, and to think that Viktor has not had his fair share of dalliances before their nuptials would be the height of foolishness.

But it’s easy enough to turn his thoughts to the present, especially when Viktor says, “My dear, you please me as you are.” The sentiment, while incredibly charming, is not what Yuuri wants to hear right now, and his face twists into one of annoyance. Viktor chuckles then, low and dark as he takes himself in hand. “Keep your hands on the bed, sweetling, I don’t want you touching yourself.”

The command has Yuuri going pliant, warmth pooling in his belly and between his thighs, and he eagerly acquiesces as Viktor thumbs his mouth open and feeds his cock between Yuuri’s lips, until Yuuri is once again drowning in Viktor’s taste and scent. Viktor slides in, thick and heavy and perfect, until there is a familiar pressure against Yuuri’s throat, and over the rush of blood in his ears, Viktor is telling him to _breathe, my darling, you’re taking me so beautifully_ —

Yuuri gives himself to the sensation, to the feeling of being an object made for Viktor’s pleasure and the pressure eases as he relaxes in Viktor’s hold, submitting completely and trusting that Viktor would take care of his every need.

“ _Perfect_.”

He barely has the chance to preen at the praise, and at the way the tip of his nose just brushes against the smattering of silver hair on Viktor’s belly, because Viktor is already moving, pulling out and thrusting back in—fucking Yuuri’s mouth like Yuuri wants him to. Viktor is gentle at first, the smooth glide of his cock almost languid, but soon enough, his movements go rough and frantic, and it’s all Yuuri can do to hold on to the bedclothes and not curl his fingers inside his dripping cunt. As it is, Yuuri can only rub against the pillow he’s sat on, hips moving in desperate circles when Viktor’s pace turns punishing, and he can already envision how he would be speaking with a rasp in the days to come with each bone-rattling thrust.

Above him, Viktor is letting out a litany of gasps and moans, his sounds of pleasure going straight to the throb of Yuuri’s molten core. Hollowing his cheeks, Yuuri sucks and licks, intent on driving Viktor over the edge. “Yuuri, Yuuri, _Yuuri_ ,” Viktor chants, both hands now scrabbling at the back of Yuuri’s head. He recognizes the hitch in Viktor’s breath and the tremble in his thighs, and he’s not surprised when Viktor pulls away with a moan—

—and spills, painting his hot release all over Yuuri’s face, his hair, his chest.

“ _Oh_.”

There’ll be no saving the pillow underneath Yuuri, that’s for certain.

 

.

 

“What else have you thought about, my Yuuri?” Viktor asks, much, much later, and Yuuri huffs, burying his face into his lord husband’s chest to hide the way his cheeks are burning. “What else would you have me do?”

Yuuri ought to have known that Viktor would be insufferable after his earlier confession about having the most improper and lewd thoughts about him, and he regrets ever having admitted to his desires when he looks up and sees the lopsided grin that Viktor is wearing.

“Don’t tease.”

Affecting an offended mien, Viktor gasps and shakes his head. “Sweetling, I would never.” The growing grin on his lips, however, says otherwise, and Yuuri would make to move away from where he’s lying atop Viktor if not for the fact that he’s quite comfortable where he is right now, and settles instead for a pout that Viktor quickly kisses away.

“You’ll just have to find out,” he says once Viktor pulls away after a few breathless seconds.

Viktor smiles impossibly brighter.

“I do _love_ surprises.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> will i ever update the main fic? soon. maybe
> 
> /rolls away


End file.
